There it is, the perfect mirror, a long, white-wood paneled mirror from China.
It’s the perfect mirror to put on the wall in back of my computer, to reflect the outdoors in, and relieve my computer-generated, house-bound boredom.
I reach up and drag the long mirror off it’s perch, pull it to me and look down into it’s face.
My lower neck is wrinkled like an old dress in the hamper. My sad neck is dragging into my collar and my pointed face hangs down and swings like a bloodhound’s, without the slobber. My teensy brown eyes are lost in eye folds and fleshy pouches.
My hair is the color of burnt broom droppings.
I’m horrified, but I can’t stop looking. This is one ugly woman.
A tattooed, faded eyebrow rolls close to my nose. When did this happen?
I look some more and note that my teeth hang over my lower lip like a horse.
Oh my god.
I run for my car.
I open the car door, hop in and sit where I’m safe and won’t offend myself or other shoppers.
Oh my god.
I should die right now. My life as a pretty woman is over.
Just breathe. Just breathe. Let’s figure this out. My mind rolls over and over like a turning compost bin.
I grab the air for some common sense, for some relief from my despair.
Of course, of course. It’s coming to me now. Now, I remember. I remember how I have always looked when I first wake up in the morning. I look like an empty shell, a homely bundle of skin, like an ugly wrapper on sausage.
Then, as the ‘I’ of me, the being, comes rolling into the physical package and says ‘Hello,’ everything changes. I warm the body up and beautify it. The body and the face sparkle. The eyes get merry and the face flushes with rose. ‘I’m’ back from my night travels and I light up my body like a luminous Christmas ornament.
When I looked into the Chinese Mirror, I now realize, The Real Me wasn’t there. This other particular ‘I’ was nosing around Home Depot with it’s mind on mirrors and house screws. Whomever was in my body was more like a shell of myself, the one who goes on autopilot and just gets the job done. This is the same one who is not busy being and projecting it’s best and most beautiful and likable Self.
When I was late into my 40’s I had a much younger boyfriend who used to marvel at me. He would say, “Sometimes you look twenty-fire years old!”
I didn’t look twenty-five because of creams or potions. I looked twenty-five because at times I felt twenty-five, acted twenty-five and saw myself as twenty-five.
Have you ever looked at yourself when you are feeling happy and well and beautiful?
And, conversely, have you looked at yourself when you had been worrying deeply and steadily for days?
You had the same body, it was the same general time period but what a difference in your looks, right?
When I looked into the ‘Demon’ Mirror in Home Depot, I was just thinking of getting a job done. I wasn’t mindfully in my body looking out.
We need to be mindful.
To look young and beautiful and handsome, we need to flood our thoughts and imaginings with pictures of ourselves being robust, healthy and apple-cheeked. And, we need to remember to keep doing it. If we forget, if we go on auto-pilot, the little, bitty, robot-like menial worker in us takes over and let’s the body show itself bare-faced and maybe not so beautiful.
What you see and feel about yourself is what others see and feel about you. People believe what you show and tell them mentally. Your body believes it, too!
After thinking about this, I get out of the car and go back into the store. I march down the aisles to the mirrors where I pick up The ‘Demon’ Mirror and drag it to the check out-stand.
I’m going to take this mirror home and put it on the wall to reflect the outside, in.
Every time I notice this mirror on the wall, it will remind me to be mindful of my mind-set.
But, here’s one thing I won’t do. No matter how Mentally Adjusted I am to My Constant Prettiness, I will never, ever….ever…… look into that Demon Mirror, again.